All the Wrong Places

by Joy Fielding

  “Guess you did,” she said, warming to the sound of her own voice. “Should you be out here? I don’t think Heather will be too happy if she sees us together.”

  “Probably not,” he admitted.

  “And yet, here you stand.”

  “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “About what?”

  “I thought maybe we could clear the air.”

  She almost laughed. “Air’s pretty thick. Not sure it can be done.”

  “We could try.”

  “Why?”

  He seemed surprised by the question. “Why?”

  “What’s the point?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe there isn’t one. I just know that I really hate the way we left things…”

  “You mean with my cousin on top of you in bed?”

  This time it was Noah who looked away. When he looked back, a small smile was playing with the corners of his lips. “Heather told me you were in a rather feisty mood tonight.”

  “She used the word ‘feisty,’ did she?”

  His smile spread to his eyes. “I miss that feistiness,” he said. Then, “I miss you.”

  Paige felt her body sway toward him. She fought to hold her position. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you started fucking my cousin.”

  Noah released a slow, deep breath. “So…back to that.”

  “Back to that.”

  “Look. I understand you’re angry…”

  “How generous of you.”

  “Give me a break, Paige. I’m trying to apologize here.”

  “I’m not interested in your apology. I thought I made that pretty clear when I moved out.”

  “That’s just it. Everything happened so fast. You ran off, you wouldn’t answer my calls, you carted your stuff out the next day—”

  “And Heather carted her stuff right in.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Heather is many things,” Paige shot back. “Complicated is not one of them.” She noticed a friend of Bev’s watching them from the valet stand. The woman put her hand in front of her mouth to whisper something to her companion. “We should go in. People are starting to talk…”

  “Walk with me,” Noah said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Walk with me,” he said again, taking her by the elbow and leading her down Avery Street toward Washington.

  “What’s happening?” Paige asked him when they reached the corner. “What are we doing?”

  “I don’t know, damn it.” Noah threw his hands up in the air. “Believe me, this is not the way I envisioned this evening going.”

  “And how did you envision it going?”

  “Not like this.” He stared in the direction of the old Paramount Theatre. “Look. I’ll be honest. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t show…”

  “Heather didn’t tell you I was coming?”

  “Oh, no. She told me. She even said you were bringing a date. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter, and then in you walked…”

  “And?”

  “It matters,” he said.

  Paige found herself holding her breath. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d been wanting to hear?

  “So, what’s the story with this guy?” Noah asked.

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  “I’m asking anyway.”

  “You have a hell of a nerve.”

  He shrugged.

  Paige turned away. She’d always found Noah’s shrugs unbearably sexy. Was this what it had been like for Chloe all these years? The constant push-pull, the loving and the loathing, the longing for the fairy-tale ending, for the kiss before the final credits, for that pivotal moment when the frog turns into the handsome prince.

  “Is it serious?”

  “Are you?” she asked, incredulous. “What exactly is going on here, Noah? What are you trying to say?” Had seeing her with another man been all the push Noah needed to realize the terrible mistake he’d made?

  “That I miss you,” he said again. “That I miss us.”

  The words swirled around her head, making her dizzy. “I miss you, too,” she admitted.

  And then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her neck, her cheek, her eyes. And it was almost enough to block out the stubborn image of Heather straddling his naked body.

  Almost.

  And then his lips found hers, and it was almost enough to blot out the lingering, bitter taste of his betrayal.

  Almost.

  “I’m so sorry, Paige. I was an idiot.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “It’s just that we were going through a rough patch,” he said. “I was in the middle of a very complicated case. You’d lost your job and were crying all the time, wandering around the apartment in those god-awful gray sweats, no makeup, dirty hair, moaning about how unhappy you were.”

  Whoa. Wait a minute. What?

  “And I admit, it kind of got to me after a while,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the sudden stiffening of her shoulders. “I had my hands full at the office. I was worried about money. I mean, your being fired made things more than a little tight. We were fighting constantly. Nothing I said or did was right. You had no patience for me at all. You probably don’t remember, but you were short with me all the time. And then Heather started coming over. And she’s got her hair just so, and she’s always laughing and happy and—”

  “You’re saying what happened was my fault?” Paige interrupted.

  “No, of course not. I’m just trying to explain why I was so susceptible.”

  “You slept with my cousin because I was wearing sweatpants?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “My hair was dirty and Heather’s was just so?”

  “Stop twisting my words.”

  “Then stop talking, you fucking idiot!” Paige shouted. “No, I’m wrong,” she corrected, marching back toward the hotel. “You aren’t the idiot. I’m the idiot! What the hell was I thinking? Once a frog, always a frog!”

  “Please lower your voice,” he cautioned, following her. “People are staring.”

  She came to an abrupt stop. “Well, then, I think it’s time we gave them something to stare at, don’t you?” And with that, Paige hauled back and slapped him, hard, across the face.

  Behind her, she heard a collective gasp, then saw her cousin pushing herself to the front of the small crowd.

  “What’s all the commotion out here?” Heather asked, the smile sliding from her face as soon as she saw Paige and Noah. “What’s going on?” she asked, as Noah brushed past her into the lobby, eyes down, cheek red. Heather glared at her cousin, then turned on her five-inch heels and hurried back inside the hotel.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Paige told the group of stunned onlookers, who parted as one to let her pass.

  Sam jumped to his feet as soon as she entered the ballroom.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  She was all over him even before they were through the door of his North End apartment, tugging at his tie and pulling at his belt buckle. “Paige, hold on,” Sam said, kicking the door closed with his foot.

  “What’s the problem?” she asked, covering his mouth with her own.

  “Can we just slow down for half a sec?”

  “What for?” Paige asked. She didn’t want to slow down. Slowing down meant time to think, and thinking was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn’t want to think about what had happened. She didn’t want to think about what she was doing now. She didn’t want to think about anything. “Help me out here,” she said, pulling Sam’s jacket away from his shoulders and trying to push it down his arms. “That
’s better,” she said, as it fell to the floor. Her fingers went immediately to the buttons of his shirt. “I’ve always liked a man in a pink shirt,” she muttered between kisses to his neck, trying to generate some sort of a response.

  “Paige,” he said, stilling her fingers with his own. Not exactly the response she’d been hoping for.

  “What’s the matter? Why are we stopping?”

  “I’m just not sure…”

  “Not sure about what?” Paige asked. “Don’t you want me?”

  “Of course I want you.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” She reached down and grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head and letting it drop to her feet. She kicked it aside, standing before him in her lacy, peach-colored underwear. “Your turn,” she said.

  “Can we at least go into the bedroom?”

  “Sure. Whatever,” Paige said, confused by his seeming reticence. “Lead the way,” she said, although she was the one taking his hand and navigating her way in the dark between the sofa and a wing chair into the hallway.

  “That’s my boys’ room,” he said, stopping her when she tried entering the first of the two bedrooms.

  “They’re not in there, are they?” she asked playfully.

  “No, of course not. They’re with their mother this week.”

  “So, are we okay now?” she asked, trying to laugh as they reached his room. What was the matter with him? Why was he acting so weird? She reached behind her to unhook her bra, tossing it aside as they stumbled toward his bed. She grabbed his hand, placing it firmly on her now bare right breast. God, was she going to have to do everything? “Kiss me,” she instructed, starting to lose patience.

  He kissed her, but it was more a kiss of desperation than passion. On their previous dates, she’d loved the way he kissed—soft, tender, just the right amount of tongue. Now there was no tongue at all, just an unsatisfying mashing of his lips against hers, his mouth parting just enough for their front teeth to grind together.

  She dropped to her knees, discarding his belt and pulling down both his pants and his underwear in one fell swoop, surrounding him with her mouth, trying to coax his limp penis into action. Come on, she thought. Come on. And then she felt his hand on the top of her head, his fingers taking hold of her hair, pulling her away.

  “Paige, stop,” he said.

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s not going to work.”

  She stared up at him through the darkness. “Why the hell not?” Anger mixed with humiliation. “What’s your problem?”

  “What’s yours?” he countered.

  “Mine?” Really? “I’m not the one with the problem here.”

  “I think you are.”

  “Then I think you’d better tell me what it is, because I don’t have a clue.”

  “Okay, listen,” he said, pulling up his pants and turning on the bedside lamp, bathing the small room in a soothing amber glow. He sank down on the bed’s beige comforter, causing it to billow out around him.

  “I’m listening.” Paige looked around for her dress before realizing she’d left it on the living room floor. She settled for her bra, snapping it back into place and pacing back and forth in front of him.

  “Why don’t you sit down.” He patted the space beside him.

  “Why don’t you just tell me what problem you think I’m having.”

  “Okay, look.” He hesitated, as if searching for just the right words. “When we first connected, I thought you were beautiful, smart, fun. I even thought, strange as this might sound, that there could be a future. I knew there were unresolved issues with regards to your family and your ex. I knew you were still hurting. And I’m not an idiot. I knew tonight was all about making a point, and I was cool with that. I’ve never been the instrument of anyone’s revenge before, and to be honest, I was flattered.”

  “Still not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “I was actually looking forward to the party.”

  “You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

  “How the hell would you know?” he snapped, his sudden anger catching Paige by surprise. “You barely looked at me all night. I don’t think you said more than a dozen words to me the whole evening. It was like once you’d introduced me to your cousin, I’d served my purpose. From then on, I was just in your way.”

  “That’s not true,” Paige said, although she knew it was.

  “And then you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, ostensibly to check on your mother, and I saw your ex take off after you, and the two of you were gone for the better part of fifteen minutes. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Even Heather figured that one out pretty quick. She was racing around the room like a chicken with her head cut off.”

  Paige bit down on her lip to keep from smiling.

  “And then you come running back in, all flushed, and say ‘let’s get out of here.’ We take off without a word to anyone, you say let’s go to my place, and suddenly you’re all over me. You can’t get my clothes off fast enough, and damn it, Paige, I’d like nothing more than to return the favor. I’ve been wanting to make love to you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is I’m not stupid. I know tonight isn’t about me. I know that what’s happening is a reaction to whatever happened between you and Noah. That you’ve got all this excess energy you’re desperate to get rid of. That I could be anybody. And much as I’d like to take advantage of the situation, I can’t do it.”

  “Even if I want you to?”

  “It’s not just about you,” he said. “I’m protecting myself here, Paige. Your cousin was wrong when she said I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I know exactly where this is headed, and it’s down a one-way street. I’ve been down that road once already. I don’t want to go there again. I deserve better.”

  Paige’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, you do,” she acknowledged, sitting down beside him and taking his hand. “You’re a good man, Sam Benjamin.”

  “I know,” he said. “Good man. Bad timing.”

  She smiled. “Maybe I could have a rain check someday?”

  He smiled back. “You know how to find me.”

  * * *

  —

  “Paige?” her mother called from her bedroom as Paige entered the condo. “Darling, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Paige walked into the family room and plopped down on the sofa, her clutch in her lap. Horny, but fine, she thought, as her mother entered the room, wearing a long blue nightgown and a worried look on her shiny face. “Did I wake you?” Paige asked her.

  “No, I only got home about half an hour ago. I’ve been busy with my moisturizers…”

  “Did you hear about…?”

  “…what happened? Oh, yes. I believe that was the slap heard ’round the world. I have to admit, you made me very proud.” Joan sat down beside her daughter, taking her in her arms and kissing her forehead. “How was it for you?”

  Paige laughed. “I cannot begin to describe how good it felt.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad. It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving fellow.” She patted her daughter’s hand. “And speaking of fellows, I wasn’t sure you’d be coming home tonight.”

  “Believe me, it wasn’t my idea.”

  “Oh, dear. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not especially. Do you mind?”

  “Of course not.” Her mother pushed herself to her feet, looking almost relieved. “Think I’ll go to bed, then, if you’re okay with that.”

  “See you in the morning.”

  What a night, Paige thought when she was alone. It wasn’t often that you rid yourself of one man only to be dumped by another.

  Of course, there
was still one man on the horizon, she thought, reaching inside her clutch for her phone. She checked her watch. It was after eleven o’clock. Was it too late to send a text?

  I’ll be here, Mr. Right Now had written earlier.

  Still, she didn’t want to appear too anxious. She clicked onto Match Sticks, scrolling through the sea of tiny faces for his photograph. “Looking for love…” she hummed absently, “…in all the wrong places.”

  And then, there he was.

  Mr. Right Now.

  “What’s your real story?” she asked out loud, clicking off the site and collapsing on her bed, exhaustion covering her like a blanket. It was too late for anything but sleep. Mr. Right Now would have to wait until morning.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The fight started as the taxi was pulling away from the Ritz-Carlton Hotel.

  “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “I already told you, nothing happened,” Noah insisted.

  “I don’t believe you,” Heather said for what felt like the hundredth time, and probably wasn’t that far off.

  “Well, that’s your problem, then.”

  “No, it’s your problem. Or it’s going to be.”

  “Can you please lower your voice?” Noah said, lowering his own, as if to show her how it was done. “I don’t think the driver is too interested in listening to your paranoia.”

  “On the contrary,” Heather stated, “I think he’s very interested. Aren’t you…” She checked the name on his registration hanging over the back of the front passenger seat. “…Ricardo?”

  “Sorry,” Noah told him. “Please ignore her. The lady’s had a few too many.”

  “The lady hasn’t had nearly enough,” Heather contradicted. “You married, Ricardo?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ricardo replied, dark eyes meeting hers in his rearview mirror.

  “You ever cheat on your wife?”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Noah interjected. “Sorry about this, Ricardo. Bet you wish we’d taken an Uber.”

  “No, sir,” came the quick reply. “I hate those guys. Personally, I’d like to shoot them all. In the head,” he added, unprompted.